


Bedtime Stories & Light Night Listeners

by infectedscrew



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Brotherly Bonding, Gen, story time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-06-07 07:04:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6792397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infectedscrew/pseuds/infectedscrew
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a long night of patrol, Damian just wants to feel like a kid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Dick practically threw himself into his bed. As soon as his body hit the comforter, he let out a deep felt groan. Silently, he prayed that Gotham sucked up for at least an hour so he could rest.

Patrol had not gone well. Actually, that was an understatement of the century. Patrol had gone horrible, terribly, beyond disastrously bad. It had started easy enough, a bank robbery here or there, the occasional breaking and entering. But, just when they thought it was going to be an easy night, Gotham just had to kick them in the face and laugh as they spit out their back molars.

Scarecrow decided that night would be a good night to unleash his newest fear toxin.

It had taken the better part of four hours to find all of the toxin reserves and get rid of them. After that there was still the matter of finding Scarecrow and sending him back to Arkham. Needless to say, the battle hadn’t gone well. The new fear toxin allowed Scarecrow to control his fear stricken zombies. There was nothing worse than trying to stop an insane, fear driven madmen while also attempting to keep zombified innocents safe from themselves.

Half way through the battle, Damian had been hit with a face full of Scarecrow’s special brew. While he had fought through it and smashed the psycho’s face into the concrete, the young vigilante had been oddly quiet the rest of the way home. He hadn’t even snapped at Tim when they arrived. He had simply pulled off his costume, shoved it at Alfred and disappeared upstairs.

Dick had shaken his head at Tim’s questioning look and, after a shower, followed Damian upstairs.

Now, he was laying face down in his pillows willing sleep to give him her kindest hug. It wasn’t happening. Childishly, he kicked his legs against the blanket and let out an enraged growl. This was so annoying. He did have a night life. Didn’t sleep know that?

Apparently, not.

He sighed and rolled over onto his back. Just as he was seriously considering getting something from the kitchen, a light knock sounded on his door. He looked over, curious.

“Come in,” he called, when the person didn’t enter.

Slowly, the door pushed open and there stood Damian, glaring at his bare feet. It was the first time that he actually looked like a small child, all pulled in on himself and quiet.

“Hey, little D,” Dick said, offering a smile. “What’s up?”

Damian glanced up, then back to his feet, glare growing. He mumbled something.

“What was that?” He asked, frowning slightly. Was Damian still affected by the fear toxin? The thought made him sit up and scrutinize the young man before him.

There was a moment of silence, then Damian repeated himself and Dick didn’t think he had ever heard those words fall from those lips.

“You…” He paused, swallowed and started again, “you want me to tell you a story?”

Damian was still glaring at his feet, but he nodded. He tilted his head up, finally, but refused to meet Dick’s gaze. “My mother used to… Used to tell me stories,” he said, awkwardly.

Dick sighed softly. “Come here,” he said, patting the bed next to him. Despite his initial hesitancy, Damian shot across the room and curled up on the bed next to Dick. A tiny chuckle rolled out of Dick’s throat. That earned him a glare. “Oh, calm yourself,” Dick sighed, wrapping an arm around Damian’s shoulders, settling back against the pillows.

For a few seconds, the two shifted until they were perfectly comfortable. By the end, Damian was tucked against his side and he rested an arm behind his head, so he could thoughtfully ponder at the ceiling.

“A story, huh?” He mused out loud. “What would you like? Princess and Dragons? Three little bears? Tale of the brave tin solider?”

Damian huffed against his chest. “Don’t get sappy, Grayson,” he snapped. “Just tell a stupid story.”

Dick chuckled again. “Alright, alright.” He thought for a moment. “I’ll tell you one my mother used to tell me.”


	2. Chapter 2

_Once upon a time there was brave prince–_

“Are you serious?”

“Damian, do you want to hear a story or not? That’s what I thought.”

_Anyway, there was once a brave prince, named Theodore. Yes, Theodore, don’t look like that. Now, this prince was a fantastic archer, rider and swordsman. He wanted nothing more than to prove to his parents and Kingdom that he was a brave warrior._

_One day, he shot his arrow so far he lost sight of it. He determined to go and find it._

“Why? It’s just an arrow.”

“It’s a story!”

"So far, a stupid one.”

“Damian.”

“Yes?”

“Shut up.”

_Okay, so, he entreated his father to let him take the best horse from the stables. He felt he would have to ride far. Getting permission, the prince took the horse and did, indeed, ride far. It was long before he arrived in a field. After a moment of searching, he found his arrow. Getting off his horse, he grasped his arrow and pulled it out of the ground._

_A large hole opened up in the ground from the earth he pulled away to receive his arrow._

“How? He does he have super-strength?”

“Damian…”

“Fine, fine.”

_In the hole was a large, living bull–_

“Are you serious?”

“Damian!”

_So! On the bull’s back was a letter and magnificent sword. He grasped the letter. It read, “he who shall feed this bull and give him a gallon of water with a good heart, shall be granted the ability to live from any injury.”_

_Not wanting to leave the bull in the ground, Theodore helped the bull out, swung the sword onto his back and led the way back to his Kingdom._

_The young prince had ridden so far, that it would take time to reach his own palace again and it was getting late. He paused by a house where an elderly woman lived. He begged a place of rest, wine for himself and water for his horse and the bull._

_The woman granted him rest and wine, but could not give him water. The local well was protected by a fearsome beast that demanded a sacrifice before water could be drawn._

“It’s just a well. Why can’t they go to another one?”

“There is only one.”

“There is only one well? Are you serious?”

“Damian… Just let me tell the story.”

_It had been announced earlier that morning that the King’s own daughter was to be sacrificed next and any man who could slay the beast would receive her hand in marriage._

“What a terrible trade.”

“What’s wrong with a princess?”

“You don’t even know her!”

“So? It’s a princess. Who is going to pass that up? Oh now you’re going to be quiet? Whatever.”

_The prince, upon hearing this, decided he would rid this kingdom of the beast. Taking up his sword, he made sure his bull was fed before making his way to the castle._

“Wait, he has enough time to go to this totally different castle but not back to his own.”

“It’s a fairy tale, I didn’t write it.”

“Well, whoever did is a moron.”

“Seriously, Damian, do you want me to tell you this, or not?”

_Okay, this brave prince entered the castle, announcing that he would slay the beast. The King and princess were overjoyed. The princess stated that she should lead the prince to the well and she would watch, to make sure he slew the creature. Together, they set out for the well._

_Soon, they came upon it. The well truly was guarded by a creature of ill repute. A twelve headed beast with the hind legs of a lion and the front half of an eagle. It was a terror to behold._

_‘I have come to slay you foul beast,’ the prince said._

“Who talks like that?”

“You have, on occasion.”

“I do not!”

“You do.”

“Just tell the story Grayson!”

“Finally…”

_'Who dares?’ The Gryffin laughed. 'Be gone boy and leave me my treat.’_

_The prince did not back down. He pulled his faithful bow and notched an arrow. In an instant, he shot down one of the heads. The eleven others roared in anger and agony. For hours the two battled furiously. With each head removed, the prince was granted his own set of wounds. The beast wasn’t going to die so easily. Finally, the beast was down to one head. With a roar, the beast launched at the prince and impaled itself on his outstretched sword._

_'Oh prince!’ The princess cried, hurrying over to the fatigued male. 'Oh prince!’_

“Do you really have to do a girly voice for her?”

“Have to make it believable.”

_But the prince could not hear her. He collapsed upon the ground. The princess, believing him dead, swooned and fell to her knees. She wept, for while the beast was destroyed as was her saviour._

“What? Why can’t she go look for a pulse?”

“It’s from a long time ago. People didn’t have pulses back then.”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Just shut up and listen.”

_A servant from the palace made his way to the well, hoping that the beast would be destroyed and the princess safe. He found the princess still weeping, the prince dead upon the ground and the beast slain. The servant, seeing his chance, chopped the prince to pieces and took one of the beasts head._

_'You’ll tell no one,’ he threatened the fair maiden. 'Come, we return to the castle where you shall be my bride.’_

_The princess, too over come with fear and anguish agreed and followed._

“What a cad!”

“I know, right?”

“He better get killed or I’m punching you in the face, Grayson.”

_The old woman, upon hearing the announcement of the wedding wept. She had believed the prince had been successful but the man to marry the princess was not the man she had known. She had been tending to the old bull and was about to give him food, when he stopped her._

_'Elderly woman,’ the bull said._

“The bull can talk?"

“Yes. Now be quiet.”

_'I do not wish for water,’ it continued. 'I wish for water, now that the beast is slain.’_

_The old woman took the bull to the well. She was horrified to find the hewed pieces of the prince. The bull, after taking a drink of water, leaned down to lick the pieces. Before the old woman’s eyes, the prince was stitched back together and breathing once more._

"Not going to comment? Really? Wow."

_Okay, so, the prince opened his eyes. 'How long have I been asleep?’ He asked._

_'Long enough for the dead to be jealous at your return,’ the woman said. She gasped. 'Prince! Hurry to the castle! Another is going to take your bride.’_

_In an instant, the prince was on his feet and hurrying to the castle. He passed beyond the gates and found a crowd gathered around the lying servant and the beautiful princess. The people of the crowd were unhappy with the impending union. None of them approved of the servant for their princess.  
_

_'Stop!’ The prince called. The crowd turned to face him. 'That man is a liar! He is not the slayer of the beast, here, I am!’_

_The princess cried. 'Oh prince! It’s is you! You have returned to me!’ She rushed forward, throwing her arms about him. The prince returned the embrace. And while still holding her, he told the crowd what had happened. By the end, they looked to the princess for validation. She nodded vigorously. 'Oh yes! It was he! I promise upon my crown.’_

_They looked to the King. He was beaming._

_'I could not ask for a better outcome. Guards!’ He called. 'Throw this liar in the dungeon!’_

_Before the lying servant could get away, the guards seized him and threw him in the dungeon, where he would await his death the following morning._

“Yes! Take that you fucker!”

“Damian, language. Have you been hanging out with Jay? Seriously."

_The prince and princess postponed their wedding until Theodore’s parents could arrive. When they did, they embraced their son, weeping for his honor and grace. Finally, the valiant prince was married to his beautiful princess. And they lived happily ever after._


	3. Chapter 3

“Well, what did you think?” Dick asked once story had been completed.

Damian was silent, staring at their legs as he thought about his answer. “It was alright,” he said finally.

Dick frowned. “Only alright?” He looked down at the top of Damian’s head. “That was the greatest story ever. It’s a Romanian classic,” he said.

There was a strange huffing sound from Damian and it took a second, but Dick realized Damian was laughing. That made him smile softly. His arm tightened around Damian’s shoulder.

“Okay, it was a fine story,” Damian said.

“Good,” Dick stated. He yawned softly, hiding it behind his free hand. “Now, you should head to bed. It’s been a long night,” he said.

Damian’s body tensed against his side. Dick could feel him swallow and clear his throat multiple times. Finally, the young man mumbled out a tiny question. “Can I stay here?”

Dick blinked then smiled softly. “Of course you can.”

The tension bled out of Damian’s shoulders.

“But I’m cold. So, I’m getting under my covers. Come on,” Dick said, shoving Damian away slightly.

In a couple of seconds, Dick and Damian were tucked away under the thick blankets. Damian had shoved himself against Dick’s chest and refused to move. Eventually, Dick had to give in, not that he was unhappy to do so. He draped his arm over Damian’s side and tucked the other one under Damian’s head. With a small sigh, he relaxed against his pillows.

“Good night, little D,” he mumbled.

Just before he felt sleep wrap her arms around him, he heard a very small voice say, ‘thank you, Dick.’ That night, his dreams were warm and pleasant.

-/-

The following morning, Tim knocked gently against Dick’s door. Quietly, he pushed it open when he didn’t get an answer. He paused when he saw Dick and Damian, still asleep and still curled around each other. He sighed softly, an amused sort of smile crossing his face. As much as Damian irritated him, he didn’t hate the child all that much. Especially since he seemed to make Dick exceedingly happy.

Silently, he moved into the room and set the tray of breakfast Alfred had given him on Dick’s dresser. It would still be there when they woke up. Although, he couldn’t promise it would be warm.

Hesitantly, he tucked a small letter to Damian next to the glass of orange juice. Dealing with the Scarecrow was never easy. And while the child pissed him off to no end, he didn’t wish nightmares upon anyone. Inside the letter were words of comfort and advice--it was everything he wished he'd been told when he'd first run into Scarecrow. He would never admit to anyone he wrote it and his name was no where in it. But, Damian was a smart kid. Three days after reading the letter, he would figure it out and be very, secretly, pleased.

With his mission done, Tim left the room as silently as he entered.

They could do with a little more sleep, he decided. Gotham could wait.


End file.
